A Summer Outing and What Came of It

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marked by driving nails into the trunk, the heads only being visible. The conversation around the camp fire that night was serious. George and the dog had been companions for years, and he deeply mourned her loss. Frank admitted that he had not thought it possible to become so attached to anything not human as he had to the dogs and horses. It was the first favorable opportunity to introduce the subject of religion, and George took advantage of it. Earnestly he expounded the great plan of human redemption and the assurance which had come to him that there was a life beyond the grave, that all men would be redeemed and brought back into the rpesence of the Lord, Fleete through faith in the redemption wrought out by Jesus Christ. "I know," he said, "that I cannot prove the truth of what I have said by external evidence which would satisfy you, and I do not expect that my conviction will be sufficient for one who is not conscious of the invisible force by which I have reached these conclusions, but I assure you that any man who will do the will of the Father shall know that these doctrines are true. Ask God, who hears all who appeal to him, and you shall

receive. That was the key which unlocked this gospel dispensation. The following morning they fished with such satisfactory results that in the'aftemoon George suggested that they go for a

ride through the timber, and possibly get a deer or turkey. The horses were saddled, the dogs unchained, the two 30-30 riflesplaced in the cases which were attached to the saddles, a new roll of films placed in the kodak, and with the dogs eagerly leading the way, the party was off. They rode up the stream to where a side canym came in came from the west, which was followed to the head, where it out on a mesa above. There was so much to admire and discuss attention was paid to the dogs until Laddie s shrill that little bark startled them. There, not more than a hundred yards running swiftly down away, was a large flock of wild turkeys, and Trailer in full pursuit. the mesa, with Laddie with a As Laddie dashed among them the great birds rose, tremendous flapping of wings, and took refuge a m pine tree.

990 IMPROVEMENT ERA

Their attention was so completely absorbed in watching the dogs, which were barking at the foot of the tree, that they did not notice the approaching men. "Now," said George, "is your opportunity to bring down one of the greatest of all game birds. The turkeys are watching the dogs, and knowing that they have nothing to fear from them while in the tree, will permit us to approach within easy range." The men dismounted and advanced to within fifty yards of the tree where the birds had taken refuge. "There," said George, "you see that gobbler at the right, on one of the lower branches of the tree; take him." Frank raised his rifle and fired. The bird did not move. "You fired too hurriedly," said George, "and overshot, a very common error. Be more careful and hold a little lower." Another cartridge was thrown into the barrel, the aim was more deliberate, and with a flutter of wings the turkey fell to the ground, the remainder of the flock soaring away into an adjacent canyon. "What a magnificent bird!" said Frank. "He is equal in size to any tame tur- key I have ever seen." "Yes," said George, "they are fully equal to the tame turkey, both in size and qual- ity, and they abound in the mountains, notwithstanding the fact that they have many natural enemies. They build their nests on the ground, and are consequently an easy prey to wild animals, many are also destroyed by the for- est fires which sweep through the mountains." "Why did you not fire at them?" asked Frank. "I felt certain that you would get this fellow," re- plied his companion, "and "They are fully equal to the tame tur- one is all we shall be able to key both in size and quality." It would be unsports- use. manlike to kill more." As they rounded a rocky point, on the return to camp, looknig across a box canyon, several hundred yards away, they saw a bear climbing clumsily up the side hill. In a moment George was down from his horse and rapidly firing shot after shot as

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the bear scrambled up the slope. The dogs were in full pursuit, but before they reached the opposite side of the canyon a welldirected shot had done its work, and the ungainly beast came rolling down the mountain-side. The skin, an unusually fine one, was removed, and the men proceeded on to camp. "Each day is more interesting than the preceding one," said Frank, as preparations were made for the night. "The fishing

"A well-directed shot had done its work."

this morning, the delightful ride through the timber, the turkeys and the bear, why, I never before knew what real life is. Tell me, are these bears dangerous? Do they ever attack man?" "I have never known an instance," replied George, "where a bear has deliberately and without provocation attacked a man, but when surprised, or wounded, or in defense of their young, bears are formidable foes." (To be Continued.)

The only way to get rid of distracting care is to have only cares that are worth caring about. The only fool that remains a fool is the fool that does not know he is a fool. you know, and yet know that you don't know, you are wise. If don't make men; it is the making of opportunities Opportunities that make men.— Nephi Jensen.

The Society Islands Mission By Grant Lee Benson

Thursday, May 23, 1843, while the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was passing through the trials and tribulations inflicted upon it in the east, four elders were set apart as missionaries to the Pacific Islands. They were, Addison Pratt, Noah Rogers, Benjamin Grouard and Knowlton F. Hanks. On Thursday, June 1, 1843, they left Nauvoo, Illinois. In those days the Panama canal did not exist, and the West was practically unsettled. No railroads traversed the highways of the West, and no modern ocean passenger steamers sailed between San Francisco and Papeete, Tahiti, because Frisco was merely a Utopian dream. Four months later, on Monday, October 9, 1843, the four elders sailed from "their native land so dear," taking a message of peace to "the people of the far-off Coral lands." They left New Bedford, Mass., on board the sailing jib Timoleon, which was bound for the islands of the Pacific. They rounded the Cape of Good Hope; thence proceeded northeast through the Indian Ocean; they were at sea about seven or eight months. On Friday, November 3, 1843, Elder Knowlton F. Hanks died on board. He was the first Latter-day Saint missionary who died and was buried at sea. On Wednesday, May 1, 1844, the three remaining elders landed on the island Tubuai, of the Austral group. They were the first missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to the Pacific Islands, and Tubuai was the first island of the Pacific on which the gospel was embraced. Fourteen days later Elders Noah Rogers and Benjamin F. Grouard landed at Papeete, Tahiti, Society Islands, as the first Latter-day Saint missionaries to that group. Elder Addison Pratt remained at Tubuai and raised up a branch of the Church there. The first convert of the Polynesian Isles was Ambrose Alexander, a white man. He was baptized Sunday, June 16, 1844, at Tubuai, there being a small party of white people at the island building a boat or ship with which to return to America. Elder Pratt fell in with the party and as a result he baptized, on Sunday, July 21, four other white people and four natives. The natives were: Napota, Terii, Pauma, and Hamoe. These were the first of the Polynesian flock who embraced the gospel. The

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first organized branch of the Church was established at Tubuai, Sunday, July 28, 1844. After one year and eight months' work at Tubuai, Elder Pratt left for another group, but the work of the gospel progressed at Tubuai. Many elders have labored at — THibuai since that time both native elders and white, and a large list of Church members is the result. The schooner Ravaai was built and launched by the Tubuain Saints and elders in the year 1851. Then came the banishment of the elders from the Society Islands by the French officals in the year 1852, and the forbidding of Latter-day Saint missionaries to continue their labors. Many Saints were unjustly imprisoned and sentenced to hard labor in the mountains for holding meetings, and for forty years the elders were not allowed on the islands, and no new messengers came from Zion. In 1892 missionary labor was again commenced on the Society Islands, and in January of that year, elders arrived from Zion, and some time later the mission was successfully reopened. Internal troubles were very prevalent in the Tubuain branch. Quarrels arose, divisions occurred, and the spirit of apostasy was general. But in 1918 the elders again commenced laboring there, and in 1919 they were again able to organize a branch of the Church, and on October 4, 5 and 6 a conference was held. This, the first conference held at Tubuai, was looked forward to with a great deal of interest by all the Saints. On Saturday, October 4, a heavy wind arose which lasted during the entire conference, but regardless of this, approximately one hundred natives attended all the meetings. The first day consisted of two daily sessions, and an excellent "haapiiraa" was held under the direction of a local elder, Tuahiva, and the Hoarenea and Huahine Saints. The second day consisted of three sessions, including Sunday school and baptismal services. Again, in the evening, a "haapiiraa" was held, directed by Tuahiva and Toriki. On the third day Priesthood and Relief Society meetings were held, followed by two extra sessions. In the evening a "haapiiraa" was given by the Mahu branch, under the direction of local elder Vaio. Exceptional talent was shown in the giving of the lessons and in the singing. The conference closed, a good spirit being enjoyed by all throughout the entire sessions. Many investigators and outsiders were present and seemed well pleased. Papeete, Tahiti.

The distinguished French teacher DeSailly says, "It is time we ceased to think of humane education as meaning no more than calling the attention of children to the need of being kind to animals. It strikes

at the very root of human character. Without it your schools and universities may only turn out the cleverer anarchists."— Humane Education Bureau, Box 144 Copley Square, Boston, Mass.

The Driver of Truck No. 7 By D. C. Retsloff

The Fishburns lived on a desert claim at the foot of Mountain Springs grade. John Fishburn was a truck driver for the Interurban Truck Company. Twice a week, he made the long journey from the hot valley, past his desert home, out to the seacoast city, trucking loads of vegetables and cotton. On the return trips he carried canned food stuffs and other commodities to the merchants of the inland empire. John belonged to the "Union," and when the truck drivers went out on a strike, John's wages stopped. This meant a shortage of food, of clothing, of everything needed by the Fishburn family. The matter of clothing was the least important, for scanty raiment was distinctly comfortable on the edge of the desert, but food for seven growing boys and girls was no small item, with potatoes at twelve cents a pound, and sugar twenty-five. The stopping of the pay check was a calamity indeed. Mary Jane Fishburn was a strong, capable woman. She could work outdoors or in, could follow a plow or saw a board, as well as any man. "Go out with the 'Union' if they order it," she had said. "If you belong to any organization, you just naturally got to stand by the ship. Thank God, I ain't unionized. I'll drive the truck." "But, Mary Jane, think of the grades, the sharp turns, the hot sun, the heavy roads, to say nothing about being held up. You'll be scared stiff." "I should worry, John. With the drivers out on the strike, I'll have the roads pretty much to myself. The company'll lose a lot of vegetables if they can't haul according to their contracts, and no one knows better than I what it means to have your wages stopped. I sure had the right hunch when I learned to drive a machine and got a license. 'In times of peace, prepare for war' always has been my motto. As far as being scared— wiell, I guess I'll manage." Mary Jane had attended a revival camp-meeting the summer before and experienced religion—it was a very real thing to her — — she had a Bible and a hymn book she studied them both. John Fishburn shook his head, but sixteen years of married

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lifewith Mary Jane had put him wise to several little kinks in her character. He knew that when she made up her mind to anything, she clung to it, like a limpet to a rock.

On Monday morning truck No. 7 left the warehouse in Imperial, on time, with its usual load, and Mary Jane Fishburn at the steering wheel, dressed in clean overalls. She stopped at the shack at the foot of Mountain Springs grade for a "bite of lunch," and gaily waved good-by to John and their group of admiring youngsters, as she rounded the first turn on the long up-grade. The motor hummed an accompaniment as she sang: "Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by, Trusting Him whate'er befall, Trusting Jesus, that is all."

Over and over she sang the words, as she shifted her gears from high to low and back again, crawling slowly around the sharp turns, speeding up on the straight way, she reached the top of the first grade. She stopped her song as the three miles of level road between the top of one grade and the foot of the other stretched out before her like a dirty tan ribbon. She thought of the hold-up men, who had been terrorizing the truck drivers during the past three months. She gave a backward glance at her load: "Old man Dotson always was queer," she said to herself; "he must be making a lot of money off his ten acres of lettuce." . .

She turned her eyes to the ribbon-like road; a quarter of a mile ahead, a man on horseback rode out from among the tall sagebrush on the left. He was followed by another, and almost at once two more came in sight. Mary Jane stopped the truck, climbed down, opened the hood and pulled out a spark plug. The foremost horseman wore corduroy trousers, a black shirt and a wide-brimmed hat. Mary Jane saw that much, even though she bent over the engine. Outwardly she was calm. "Hey, there, young feller," called the man in corduroys, "face the canyon and turn your peepers skyward. Findin's keepings, an' maybe we can find somethin' worth while among your load." Without replying, Mary Jane turned to the canyon. There was a hurried pulling of crates and boxes as the outlaws rummaged the load on the truck. "Why in the didn't you tell us that we were wasting time?" asked one of them, as he stepped to Mary Jane's side. She turned to face him before *3e answered: "Because you didn't ask me."